Love and War in the Glade
by JoshMCo
Summary: Set before the Maze Runner begins. (AU, as it won't stick strictly to canon) Newt and Crick are two friends, or so it seems to the public eye. In private, the two are much closer than friends. Secretly in a relationship, the two find themselves tested and pushed to their limits by what they need to do for each other. Slash!fic, but completely clean. Read & Review please!
1. Chapter 1: Fire and Nightmares

**A/N: I have only read the first two books of this series, so canon may be... Altered. If this annoys you, let's call it an AU :) Also, I know this one's a little short but they'll get longer, I promise. Also, I love reading reviews so please leave some :)**

**_**

Newt was uncomfortable. It was rather warm in the Glade, more than usual. The change was obvious in all, and everyone was moving sluggishly, and sweating. It was late evening, and he'd arrived back from his running duties earlier. Alby was somewhere about though where, Newt didn't know. Frypan was chasing people away from his kitchen, and work seemed to have stopped. This didn't sit well with him, and he shifted uneasily. Around the camp, a few boys were still hard at work, but not many. Those that weren't were mostly younger kids, some as young as 12. Newt glanced around him now, eyes scanning the high walls surrounding their safe haven. As he suspected they did to most, they unnerved him. The stone walls made him (predictably) feel trapped. Of course, he'd never voice these to anyone. Least of all-. His thoughts were cut off by the feeling of a presence beside him. Newt turned, and saw the familiar mess of hair that signified Crick, Newt's friend. Crick was tall, and very thin. He wasn't very strong, as was evident from his frame, but he was agile. Crick's arm snaked around Newt's waist. _Well... Maybe a tiny bit more than friends. _Newt thought, smirking. Newt slapped his arm off, looking warily around. The other Gladers weren't exactly aware of their status. Crick laughed. "Honestly, Newt. You'd think you were ashamed of me." Crick tried to make it sound playful, though genuine concern laced his voice.  
"Of course not." Newt laughed. "I just doubt these shanks would be too happy to learn about us."  
Crick smiles "Well, shuck 'em. It's our lives." He shrugged, inspiring a chuckle from Newt.  
"It isn't that simple." Newt sighed. "Anyway, shush." He said, as Gally came running over, throwing a distrustful glance at Crick.  
Crick rolled his eyes, taking the hint. "I'll see you later, shuckface." He mumbled, smirking and walked away.

After the conversation with Gally, something about the kids slacking off, Newt wandered back to the Homestead, hoping to see Crick. It was getting darker, and people were beginning to go back to their beds. As he entered the building, he couldn't find him in his usual place. He looked around the building and still nothing. Just before Newt gave up, he poked his head out of the window. Sat around the back, Crick was staring into the darkness. Newt frowned, and walked down to see him. It had gotten considerably colder since earlier, and Newt shivered as the cold air hit his bare arms. Covering them as best he could, he walked over to Crick. The messy-haired boy was sat silently, just staring at the wall. Newt frowned, raising an eyebrow. "Why are we here?" Crick asked suddenly, causing Newt to blink rapidly.  
"Erm..." Newt stammered. "I don't know, Crick." He shrugged. "Maybe this is Hell."  
Surprisingly, Crick chuckled. "Hell is other people... This is a very good Hell, then." They both chuckled.  
Newt took Crick's hand in his. "It isn't all bad." Their eyes met, and a simple smile was shared between the two.  
"Not all bad.." Crick looked around. "We should get inside. Cold as klunk out here." He chuckled. Newt nodded and they both stood, still hand in hand, and walked inside.

They were sat in the corner of the room, Alby with them. Newt and Alby were talking about the runnings of the Glade. Crick was content to just watch. He wasn't even listening to what they were saying, he was just watching Newt. The boy was very cute, Crick had to admit. Every now and then, Newt would glance at him and, seeing his stare, either roll his eyes or blush. Crick smirked inwardly. Soon enough, their impromptu meeting was over, and Alby walked away, to his bed. Soon enough, the other Keepers cleared out of the room. "Looks like we have the room to ourselves." Crick smirked.  
Newt chuckled "Seems like it." He turned towards Crick, and found himself in the other boy's hands, at arms length. Newt waited, blinking for the next move. Seconds later, the two boys were joined at the lips. After the briefest of seconds, they pulled apart. Newt was blushing slightly and stammered for a moment. "I, erm... I should go to sleep." He said, and hurried out. Crick watched him leave. Crick smiled softly, and sat down.

_Fire. All he could see was fire. The Homestead was burning and people were screaming. He could recognise some of them, though he tried not to. He couldn't hear Newt, though. He chose to see this as a good thing. "CRICK!" Someone roared behind him. He turned to see Gally, Alby and Minho throwing water onto the Homestead, attempting to stop the fire. Newt was nowhere to be seen. He turned away from the fire and saw a figure near the open section of the wall. Before seeing properly, he knew. "NEWT!" He roared, and took off after the figure. Was he... Going into the Maze? Admittedly, he was a Runner, but the Homestead was _burning. _Surely that warranted a break in routine. Apparently not, as Newt continued on his path into the Maze. Instinct took over, and Crick took off after Newt. Yet, even as he approached, Newt increased his speed. He seemed to be shouting something, but the fire drowned out his sound, along with the blood rushing in Crick's ears. Within twenty seconds, Newt was in the Maze. The world seemed to darken, and the walls closed. Crick reached them just as they closed, and pounded on them, screaming Newt's name. _

When he awoke, Crick was still screaming.


	2. Chapter 2: Graves and Fear

When Crick stopped screaming, running footsteps could be heard in the hall. Seconds later, Newt and Alby burst in the room, each of them wielding a knife. Both of them found Crick with their eyes. He was flailing wildly, eyes still trapped closed. "Crick!" Alby half-shouted, hardly caring about the other sleeping Gladers. Still, Crick flailed.  
"Crick!" Newt repeated Alby's shout. This, however, had a different effect. Crick almost immediately calmed, and his eyes opened. He looked alarmed, and scared.  
"Newt?" Crick asked, in a voice quieter than a whisper.  
"I'm here." Newt said quietly, keeping his eyes on him. Crick's eyes found Alby. The leader looked back at him, eyes disapproving.  
"You ill or something?" Alby asked. Crick shook his head, glancing at Newt.  
"No... Sorry, it was a nightmare." Crick mumbled, ashamedly. Suddenly, he realised how stupid the situation was. _He's there. You can see him. He's safe. _He told himself. "It won't happen again." He promised, eyes concentrated on the floor. Alby frowned and looked between the two, Newt's eyes still on Crick.  
"Alright. Get some sleep, and don't be screaming everyone awake again." Alby said, then walked out. Newt rounded on Crick.  
"What the shuck was that, Crick?" Newt asked, eyes scanning him in concern. And so Crick told him.

Newt blinked, as the story ended. "W-Wow." He said, rather simply. He shook away his surprise and smiled. "It's only a dream... We've all had nightmares." He smiled softly.  
Crick wasn't smiling. "Don't go into the Maze." He said softly.  
"I'm a Runner. I kinda have to." Newt chuckled, though his gaze seemed serious. "I'll be fine, I promise."  
Crick looked away. "Newt, I..." He trailed off, and simply put his head on Newt's shoulder. Newt smiled softly and nodded.  
"I know." He mumbled. They looked at one another again, and another kiss was shared, a quick, sharp peck, but a kiss nonetheless. Newt stood. "I think I need to go... Alby will be wondering."  
Crick nodded, looking down. Newt looked at him hesitantly, and turned away. "I'm sorry." He mumbled, then walked out.

Crick didn't need to wake up the next day. There was no chance of him getting any sleep. Newt infested his thoughts and, every time he closed his eyes, even to blink, he saw him stepping into the Maze as the doors closed. Crick got up sluggishly, still fully clothed and rested his head in his hands for a while. He looked outside, and saw other Gladers getting up. He walked through the Homestead, and out into the Glade. It was crisp and chilly outside, but Crick didn't shiver. He looked about the Glade, something new in his mind. It felt like a numbness, a nothingness in his brain. It felt... Pointless. There was no point to it. Crick dropped his head, and stared at the floor. He shook his head and smiled softly. And he walked. He kept walking, until he was surrounded by a thick bushel of trees. Then, he walked through, until he found the clearing containing the graves. It was quiet. Crick sat and stared at the markers, names springing out to him. He'd been here since near the start, one of the first individual boys to come up in the Box. He recognised most of the names, though some of them were lost to him. He looked at the shrewd, wooden crosses, and sighed. He remembered these boys. They'd lived and died inside the Glade, from illness or accidents or, in the Runners' cases, Grievers. He sat like that for a while, revelling in the quiet.

"I thought you might be here." A voice reached Crick's ears, and he jumped. He turned to see Newt.  
"Did you?" Crick asked, smiling softly.  
Newt nodded. "Yep." He said. Newt looked around the clearing. "But why are you here? Everyone's looking for you."  
Crick sighed softly. "I needed to get away." He said, rather quietly. Crick looked at Newt. "If they found out... About us, I don't know what would happen." Crick looked away, feeling embarassed.  
"But I don't think I care, Newt." Newt looked at him for a second, pondering what to say. However, whatever it would be, Crick once again spoke. "I love you, shuckface."  
"I..." Newt paused, looking at Crick. He knew how he felt about him, but he'd never _dreamed _Crick would ever say it. "I love you too." The words sounded alien coming out of his mouth, though they sounded pleasant to him. Crick smiled softly, and leant his head on Newt's shoulder. The two sat like that for a while, not a word being said between them. Newt didn't share Crick's feelings towards the openness he'd suggested. He knew how people would react. He knew it wouldn't be good. People would never accept it... Never accept _them. _People like Gally and his crew, they might react violently. The second-in-command couldn't be seen to be romantically linked with anyone. If it had been a girl, maybe... But there were no girls. Only boys, boys who were likely to bigoted. All this hit him too fast, and he plastered on a smile as Crick turned to face him.

They went back into the Glade soon after, after making Crick look a little beaten up. Alby and Gally were the first to see them. "Where the hell have you two slintheads been?" Alby asked angrily.  
"I fell." Crick sighed. "Hit my head... Must have fallen unconscious." He found it hard to keep Alby's gaze. He hoped that the leader wouldn't notice.  
"I found him near the Deadheads. He was in a bad way." Newt looked at Alby. "Figured I should stay with him." Newt sounded convincing, though he was staying as far away from Crick as possible.  
"Really?" Gally asked, looking at Crick. "He looks fine."  
"I just took a little bump." Crick shrugged, avoiding all gazes. "I'm fine." He mumbled.  
"Hmm... Go to the Medjacks. They'll check you out... Newt, you should have left by now." Alby looked at the other boy, clearly annoyed. "There's no point you leaving now..." He turned to them both. "Actually, shuck it. You're both in the Pit for a night, starting as soon as we get this slinthead checked out." He nodded at Crick.

Soon, they were in the Pit together. The night was wearing on. And that was the night everything changed.


	3. Chapter 3: Dead and Gone

_**AN: Okay, I have made an executive decision. After only two chapters, I am completely abandoning canon. I'm making an AU :P Also, I'm not very good at characters, so they may be different to what they are in the book. I apologise. Also, I'm now read up on where Newt's story ends. I have cried :P **_

Crick woke up first the next day. His body hurt from the floor he'd slept on, and he had dust all over his shirt. Newt was still asleep, and Crick sighed when looking at him. He smiled softly. He nudged him with his foot, waking him up. "Get up, shuckface." Crick whispered softly. Newt groaned and looked at him. "They'll let us out soon."  
"Bloody hell." Newt grumbled, moving his hair out of his face. "I feel like a bucket of klunk."  
Crick chuckled softly. "You look it." He teased, before staring out of the window and pausing. "Something's wrong." He said and Newt turned and looked too. It was light, but there was no noise. no bustle of Gladers beginning to wake up. Newt left Crick's side. Crick kept observing, kept listening, but couldn't hear a thing, beyond the slight breeze in his ears. There was nothing to notice, though, no change in the scenery, not with the hedge obstructing the view.

"Hey." Newt called, sounding quiet. Crick turned. Newt was holding the door wide open. "Something's definitely wrong." Crick gulped softly and moved out of the room. He turned to look at the wall next to the door. A faint splash of blood ignited a spark of panic inside of them both.  
"Looks like we missed a hell of a party." Crick attempted to crack a smile but failed, desperately trying to ward off panic. Newt was silent beside him and, as Crick looked, completely pale.

They could finally see the Homestead. It did nothing to quell their fears. There was no-one about, and it was completely silent. "Hello?" Crick shouted, looking about. No-one answered. "Anyone?" He shouted again, frowning. Crick felt his fists clench at his sides. There was something in the air. A sharp tang that Crick could taste. "What the shuck did we sleep through?" He whispered, as they walked closer and closer towards the Homestead. Newt suddenly turned.  
"Wait." Newt said suddenly. His head was facing one of the tents. "They're still there." Newt broke into a run, approaching the tent. Crick followed, frowning. There was a boy lain there, as if dead. For a moment, Crick feared he might be. "He's breathing." Newt breathed out, sighing in relief. Crick felt a glimmer of hope, but it quickly subsided as he took in all of the other empty tents.  
"Yeah, but where's everyone else?" Crick asked, looking back at the Homestead.  
"They're gone... Almost all of us. Taken, dead or unconscious." A voice, low and shaky said behind them. Crick wheeled around, looking alerted at Alby. "Finally woken up, have you?" He sounded angry, very angry. "I thought you were both dead or gone... You would have been sitting ducks in there."  
"What happened?" Crick asked, seeing Alby's shirt ripped and splashed with blood, and his trousers torn. Now that he looked, Crick could see scratches all over his face.  
"We don't know." Alby sighed softly, looking down. "We don't know what they were... Claws and teeth and electricity." He looked at Crick. "They were quiet. Knocked Gally and Frypan unconscious before any of us knew what was happening. After that, it's a blur... Blood, screams and... Zaps." Alby sighed. "But you two slintheads are still alive, so I guess that's something to be thankful for." Alby turned to look at the unconscious boy. "He's lucky..."  
"These... Zaps. What did they look like?" Crick asked, slightly fearing the answer.  
"Small. Like the beetle blades but... Well, actually, they looked exactly like beetle blades but they hummed and crackled... I suppose it was electricity." Alby sighed, turning his head. "Come on... Have a look for yourself."

They arrived in the Homestead, the usually dilapidated building looking even more so. It was haunting. "They cut the power or... Overloaded it or whatever." He commented, as Newt looked at the lights, all of them blown. "That's what woke us up. The lights blew." Alby looked haunted. Crick looked into a room, and saw a patch of blood and what seemed like a pile of beaten meat.  
"What the..." Crick whispered, staring at the figure.  
"Don't..." Alby put a hand on his arm. "It's... Just don't." He warned, not looking at the pile.  
"Why?" Newt asked, staring at it too. "What is it?"  
"You don't wanna know." Alby said. It sounded like a promise. Crick looked at him and shook his head and began to walk over to the pile. "Wait, Crick." Alby said, voice hollow. Crick kept walking and finally saw it from the other side. He backed away in disgust. "Bloody hell." He whispered, as he saw the face of one of the younger Gladers. "What happened to him?" Crick asked, looking back to Alby."  
"Not the Zaps. They're too small to do that, surely?" Newt asked.  
"Yeah. It doesn't fit the Grievers, either." Alby shrugged. "Can we leave please? I don't want to be around this mess." Crick nodded and they left.

What was left of the Gladers, a little over ten people, were huddled in the uppermost room. Everyone but Newt and Crick had blood on them, and looked haggard. Beside Crick, Newt looked incredibly pale. Crick frowned, hand twitching at his side. Crick walked over to him and put a hand on his back, concealed by their bodies. Newt quickly smiled a sad smile at him, before turning back to Alby. "So what do we do?" He asked.  
"What do you mean? We continue." Gally piped up, from beside Alby. He looked enraged. "There's nothing we can do. We're all dead, comatose or... Gone. And those that are gone might as well be dead." He stood and walked at them both. "Where were you?" He asked, as they both backed away slightly. "How did you sleep through... _This_?" Gally beckoned around. "Our friends are dead or worse. You had a responsibility." He snarled. His glare was set on Newt. "We can't recover from this. We're as good as dead."


End file.
